


Subterfuge

by ShiroiNoKiba



Series: AsaNoya Week 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Asanoya Week 2020, Day 2: Jealousy/Fake Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiroiNoKiba/pseuds/ShiroiNoKiba
Summary: He shouldn't be feeling relieved that Nishinoya doesn't have a backup date. Shimizu will surely reject him, and he'll go to the banquet unpaired. Asahi feels a deep shame matched only by the excitement that blooms in his chest and the small smile that spreads on his lips; if Nishinoya doesn't have a date, that means they can hang out together until it's formally acceptable to hightail it out of there. They can get noodles somewhere, or talk for hours under the night sky, or Asahi can invite him to stay overnight at his house... He shouldn't be happy that his friend is about to be rejected by the subject of his affection. He isn't happy. But he'd be lying to himself if it doesn't give him a little relief. The idea of Nishinoya with someone else at the banquet is almost too much to bear.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Series: AsaNoya Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885456
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75
Collections: Asanoya Week 2020





	Subterfuge

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this fandom, and it was so exciting! I love this pairing, and this idea came to me right away when I saw the prompt for day 2 of AsaNoya week. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Asahi worries the edges of the poster sitting on his desk with his fingers. The paper is already damp and curling from his incessant rubbing. He presses his lips again. They're sore and bruising; he's been biting and rolling them and they're starting to feel like the corners of the poster look. Worn and injured. A shallow sigh hisses between his teeth. He jumps when he feel the careful jab of a pencil in his side.

"Azumane? Are you with us?" comes the teacher's voice from the front of the classroom. Asahi sits up straight like he's been poked with a pin instead of a pencil.

"Y-Yes!" he responds too loudly, standing up with a loud scrape of his chair. A few snickers rise from his classmates. He gets the feeling she'd been calling him for a while. "Sorry."

"From page sixty-two, please," the teacher quips, wasting no time on her student's apology. Asahi clears his throat, brushing aside the poster and raising the book underneath to his nose. If he'd been paying attention, he'd have his reading glasses on and save himself the humiliation of having to squint down at the pages to read words that scatter like ants. If he'd been paying attention, those words might mean something to him as he reads them out loud dutifully, but entirely without feeling. If he'd been paying attention, maybe the lesson would be sinking in.

But it's not. Even as he speaks, the words bounce away as if his ears are covered by tight plastic film. There's no room between them for a literary take on Great Expectations. Even as he reads from the book in front of him, his mind's eye sees only the poster just underneath. It's sitting there, staring up at him. He can feel that stare harder than the eyes of his classmates glued to him as he recites the prose he can't hear. Sweat prickles on his forehead. The end of the section can't come fast enough. If only he had his damned glasses, he could get this over with faster. But he hadn't been paying attention.

The section does end at last, and eventually so does class. English Classics is always brutal at the end of the day, but somehow, Asahi makes it. He packs up his things--comforted slightly by the knowledge that he hadn't been the only one in class that was daydreaming after Ono-sensei picked on another distracted student--and makes for the door. Nishinoya would be on his way over if he delayed too long. The determined second year still hadn't let him off the hook even months after he'd promised a full-time return to the club. But just as he gives the teacher a quick farewell, she calls him.

"Azumane," she says. Asahi pauses, turning to her with mild surprise. "I'd like a chat with you if you have a moment."

Asahi swallows. "I-if this is about what happened in class, I can explain--"

"You're not in trouble," Ono-sensei holds up one hand to halt his mumbling. "If I were to admonish every student that I caught with their head in the clouds, I'd have to live a very long life."

Asahi smiles at this, stepping closer. Ono-sensei removes the glasses at the end of her nose to look up at her student. Asahi averts his gaze from her intense one; she's a small woman, but the force of her can make any man feel smaller. She watches him for a breath longer before she says: "I won't pry. I won't pretend it's my business. But I can see there's something bothering you."

Asahi gasps. Is he really so easy to read? He tries to stammer a response, but the words die on his lips. He stays quiet instead, his head falling.

"The school guidance counselor is always available to you, Azumane. If you need someone to listen, there's no reason not to go."

Asahi nods, lifting his head again and trying to smile. "Thank you, Ono-sensei. I'll keep that in mind."

He's aware of how time is pressing closer, prodding his sides like the pencil of that helpful student from earlier. Any minute now and he'll burst through the door like a storm with a thunderclap call of the third year's name, mouth drawn into a frown, worry thinly-veiled behind charcoal eyes. Asahi can't bear the thought of seeing that worry surface, the lines creasing around that frown. He glances at the clock with no subtlety and, thankfully, Ono-sensei catches on.

"I know you're a very busy person, what with being a student and the team's ace," she finishes. "But taking care of yourself is very important. Your body is an extension of your mind. You'll perform better when you haven't got that cloud hanging over you and blocking your horizon."

Asahi blanches, feeling grateful if not somewhat exposed. He thanks her again and gives a respectful nod of departure and heads for the door. He's barely finished shutting it behind him when he hears that familiar, grainy voice.

"Asahi-san, there you are!"

A dark, spiked head comes bobbing down the hall in his direction. Lingering students that cling to the edges of the hall in groups all turn towards them.

"Nishinoya, not so loud," Asahi greets his underclassman gently.

"C'mon," the younger says just as loudly, as if he didn't hear. "They'll be waiting for us at the club room. Extra sprints for foot draggers, you know!"

"Yeah, I know." Asahi slings his bag over his shoulder. With all the books and packets and notebooks, it almost amazes him how clearly he can feel the weight of a single piece of paper. That poster.

"Did you see the handouts for the banquet?" Nishinoya asks, his eyes glittering with excitement when he looks up at Asahi. His face can barely contain his smile. "I'm gonna ask Kiyoko-san to go with me!"

"Is that so? Do you have a backup?" Asahi asks carefully. Even so, Nishinoya turns back to him with a burning conviction.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what if Shimizu turns you down?"

"She won't!" Nishinoya exclaims passionately, his little shoulders swelling with pride. "I just know it!" He laughs, skipping ahead of Asahi with boundless energy. Asahi swallows around the sharp stab in his throat.

The Karasuno sports' banquet, a yearly fundraising event held in the school's gym, hosted by the players themselves and their coaches. Formal, stuffy, comparable to American prom. That's what the poster weighing down his bag with its tattering edges and blunted corners is advertising. He'd gone once, in his first year at Karasuno, before he knew just how dreadfully awkward and embarrassing it could be. He'd managed to mouse his way out of the previous year's, but now it seems like he has little choice but to go. Daichi and Suga would be there--of course now that they are co-captains--and they'd expect Asahi to be there not just as the team's ace, but as a future graduate. Plus, they'd been very upset with him for skipping before, and he doesn't want to disappoint them again. But it's only a week away, and as Asahi watches his junior spring to the balls of his feet with each step, the knot that's been in his stomach since the posters were handed out at practice tightens.

He shouldn't be feeling relieved that Nishinoya doesn't have a backup date. Shimizu will surely reject him, and he'll go to the banquet unpaired. Asahi feels a deep shame matched only by the excitement that blooms in his chest and the small smile that spreads on his lips; if Nishinoya doesn't have a date, that means they can hang out together until it's formally acceptable to hightail it out of there. They can get noodles somewhere, or talk for hours under the night sky, or Asahi can invite him to stay overnight at his house... The embarrassment of that idea makes his face warm and he covers his smile with one hand. He'd never be brave enough to ask Nishinoya to the banquet himself, but Shimizu's staunch aversion to the younger's affections might work in his favor.

Nishinoya looks back at him, rushing him along again. Asahi picks up the pace, if only to keep him from shouting, stuffing down the feelings. He shouldn't be happy that his friend is about to be rejected by the subject of his affection. He isn't happy. But he'd be lying to himself if it doesn't give him a little relief. The reason for his preoccupation, his inability to look at the banquet poster without a rush of anxiety, the cause of the tightness in his gut seems all so foolish. But Asahi, as ridiculous as he feels, can't help himself. The idea of Nishinoya with someone else at the banquet is almost too much to bear.

He doesn't like the way these thoughts make him feel. It's like everything in him is twisting up, veiling over so it becomes hard to think straight. Even as he smiles at Tanaka as he joins their trek to the clubhouse, he has to shake his head a bit to try and clear it, swallow down a strange bitterness that washes over his tongue. He hopes the others aren't as keen to his feelings as Ono-sensei had been.

"C'mon!!" Nishinoya exclaims on the other side of the net. His voice echoes above the clamor of "nice kill!" and "nice course!" from their other teammates. His forearms are blazing red, but he grins and squats resolutely as sweat streams from his glistening temples. "You can hit harder than that, Asahi-san!"

Asahi shags his ball with a sheepish smile, taking his place behind Kinoshita once again on the other side of the net.

"That Nishinoya is a sadist," Kinoshita laughs. "He's the only one I know that would ask the team's ace to hit the ball _harder_."

Asahi chuckles at the comment. "He likes to rag on me during spike practice is all." They watch as the libero dives for a ball drilled over the net by a hollering Tanaka. He makes it, but doesn't quite get behind the hit. The ball slams off his arms and flies off course straight behind him. Despite the flubbed receive, his eyes sparkle.

"Ooh, Ryū! _That_ was the hit of an ace! Asahi-san's gotta watch his back with you around!"

The underclassmen high-five and Tanaka grabs the wayward ball. Kinoshita turns to Asahi. "By the looks of it, I think you'd have to break his arms for him to be satisfied."

They laugh together, but Asahi knows that Nishinoya is right. He's off his game, can't connect to the ball like usual, can't find the groove during drills. Everything had started to feel so natural to him again after his promise to stay on the team, but lately that feeling has been pulled out, and all thanks to that damn poster, that stupid banquet.

When Kinoshita is jogging back to their side of the net after a spike, Asahi tosses the ball in his hands to Suga. The setter lets out a "jeez!" and jumps for the ball, but it sails over his fingertips and bounces uselessly on the other side of the net. He looks from the ball to Asahi, his brows raised and smiling.

"Fired up after Nishinoya's teasing?" he asks, laughing. Asahi feels the heat of blush in his face.

"Sorry," he says. Suga grabs another ball from the basket on the sideline and tosses it to him in a high, easy arch. Asahi gets under it, making sure to bump it back to the setter in a similar arch, then approaches for the spike. Time slows when he takes off with both feet; stretching up and arching back to put full power into the swing, Asahi locks eyes with the wildcat on the other side of the net. Nishinoya's expression is a mix of opposites as he takes position. Patience and excitement. Control and abandon. Confidence and alertness. He's waiting for the swing, but Asahi isn't aiming for him. He knows no matter how hard Nishinoya tells him to hit, he'll receive the ball with ease even if it does actually break his arms. Instead, Asahi aims for a spot that will trip him up, a spot that he's not sure he has enough control to keep the ball inbounds, but will make the libero's eyes shine like they did at Tanaka. He whips his arm down, feeling the pleasing sting against the heel of his palm and nothing else until his feet hit the ground. There's silence amongst his peers as the violent thwaks of the ball thud to quiet. Nishinoya is knocked over, both feet in the air like an overturned beetle.

_Oh man. I overdid it--_

"That was amazing!!" Hinata's voice rings out from the center line. Others follow, and when Asahi turns to look at them, he's met with lots of blinking eyes, all wide with admiration. "Kageyama, I wanna do one like that!"

"Your skinny arms will never hit the ball like that, _bokē_."

"The ace makes an appearance at last," Daichi smarts with a smirk from the line on the far right, his ball perched on his hip. Suga chuckles. Asahi turns, his face flaming now, to find Nishinoya rolling back over his shoulder and onto his knees. Asahi ducks under the net to jog to him and offer a hand up.

"Nishinoya, are you okay? I kinda went a little too hard back there."

"Are you kidding?!" The second year whips his head up and fixes him with a fervent look, surprising him. "That felt better than receiving a serve from the Great King! Those are the untouchable spikes I recognize from my ace!"

His feline eyes are brilliant, his teeth gleaming behind a proud, toothy grin. He slides a small hand into Asahi's to hoist himself off the floor, and the elder's heart takes off. Nishinoya, upright again, gives him a pat on the side and a nod.

"Give me more of those, and it won't be long before you can't get the best of me again. A powerhouse ace will make a powerhouse libero." Nishinoya say, smiling up into Asahi's blushing face. He tries to say something back, but Coach shouts at him to clear the court to continue the drill. Shimizu hands him his shagged ball when he reaches the sideline.

"Nice kill, Azumane," she says in her quiet voice.

"Thanks," he says, both for the compliment and for the ball. But his hands aren't shaking because a beautiful girl told him he made a good play. He doesn't have butterflies in his stomach because he's watching Hinata try to mimic his spike. It's not Tanaka's challenging roars that are making his knees feel like jelly.

_'Those are the untouchable spikes I recognize from my ace!'_

Those words follow him for the remainder of practice. The simple honesty of it. The flash of pride in his eyes and the confidence in his smile. The way his delicately-boned hand had felt in Asahi's own. Asahi would hit a thousand spikes--more--if it meant he could hear those words just once more, if he could feel those fingers slide against his skin...

"HEADS UP!!"

_***BOOM*** _

Asahi's vision goes dark for a moment. A thick, dull pain radiates through his skull, and a sharp, prickling pain stings on his cheek just below his eye. He stumbles, falling to his butt onto the floor. A collective "oooh" comes through the ringing in his ears.

"Azumane-san!?"

"Asahi!"

"I'm okay, guys. I'm okay." Asahi pushes himself up with some effort, reaching out until a hand emerges from the ones circling him and pulls him up the rest of the way.

"I thought Hinata was the only one who took headshots," Suga jokes lightly and Tsukishima laughs at the redhead on the other side of the net. "You alright?"

"C'mon guys, give him some room." Daichi shoulders his way between Narita and Nishinoya. He examines Asahi closely.

"I'm okay," Asahi repeats, getting somewhat nervous under those parental eyes. Daichi is unmoved.

"That was a nasty hit," he says. He turns to Nishinoya. "Noya, will you bring him to the nurse?"

Nishinoya salutes the captain, and before Asahi can protest again, he's being herded off the court with two hands pressed into the small of his back. He resigns with a sigh, sitting on the steps to change his shoes. Nishinoya waits for him, helping him regain his balance when he stands too quickly and a vertigo seizes him.

"Jeez," the second year says, genuine concern laced through his tone. "Have you got your head on right today, Asahi-san?"

Asahi blanches. "I-I do! That shot just got me by surprise is all."

"That's not all I'm talking about," says the libero, fixing Asahi with a serious look. He doesn't have to say anything else for Asahi to know what he means. He should've known he couldn't hide from Nishinoya. He sighs.

"I'm just thinking about the banquet," he says, feeling an unwelcome blush warm his already-hot cheeks. The rush of blood makes the pain throb. "I don't know if I'm looking forward to it."

"Why not?" Nishinoya questions. "It's gonna be fun!"

Asahi runs his hand over his face, flinching when he touches his cheek. "Ugh, I don't know. I went my first year and I've never wanted more to be able to disappear into the floor. Plus, this year..." He stops. Nishinoya notes his silence.

"This year...? What, your date turn you down?"

"Something like that," Asahi admits. He can't look Nishinoya in the eye, focusing instead on his feet. "They're going to ask someone else to go with them. I can't compete."

"Oh, come on, Asahi-san!" Nishinoya claps him on the shoulder, grinning wide. "You have to have more confidence! What does this other guy have that you don't? How come he's so special? You have to be fast, ask her before she asks the other guy. But you have to believe in yourself or else she's going to sense your self-doubt! Girls are like that, you know. But trust me, a little confidence will get you even the date of your dreams, the one you never thought would say yes!"

Asahi chuckles halfheartedly, thanking him for the advice. But inside, something like sorrow sits heavy on his lungs. Nishinoya means well--Asahi knows he does--but it would take more than just self confidence. It'd take a miracle for Asahi to land the date of his dreams for this banquet.

The nurse examines him, dashing her flashlight across his eyes, testing his balance and his memory and other menial tests. Nishinoya waits during the exam, quieter than he'd been until now. Asahi can feel the heat of his gaze as he repeats basic vocabulary in backwards order, trying to keep focused so he can pass and get back to the gym. But he can't help but notice that Nishinoya's feet don't reach the ground where he's sitting; the bed is too high, and his feet dangle just a few centimeters from the ground. He doesn't seem bothered, leaning back on his hands and swinging his legs just a little, but Asahi is transfixed on it. He's so small, head and shoulders shorter than Asahi, and even so he commands a presence that belies his small stature. Even completely silent, he's a force of nature sitting across from Asahi, a thundercloud contained in a human body. A panther's grace and speed live inside him, flashing into his eyes whenever he's on the court. Asahi is thankful the nurse is examining his head and not his heart. It'd be making a racket against her stethoscope.

For a moment, standing up to touch his toes and straighten, Asahi actually contemplates it. Asking Nishinoya if he'd go to the banquet together. For a moment, he actually believes Nishinoya would say yes. For a moment, he lets himself feel the unmeasured glee of putting it out there, of making his crush known. Of holding hands and walking into the gym together, of dancing together and laughing together...

Nishinoya lets out a little sigh through his nose and Asahi snaps out of it. He watches as the younger looks at his nails, putting one finger in his mouth to gnaw at a torn cuticle. He sighs too. The fantasy of it will have to suffice. There's no way he could turn it into reality.

Once he's finally cleared of a concussion and given an ice pack for the swelling, Asahi and Nishinoya head back for the gym. Nishinoya's silence, oddly enough, sticks around like a third party. Asahi eyes him from above.

"What're you thinking about?" he asks quietly.

"Maybe you were right," Nishinoya replies. Asahi goes cold for a moment, wondering beyond impossibility if Nishinoya knew what he was thinking in the nurse's room, about asking him to the banquet. "What if Kiyoko-san does turn me down?"

"Oh," Asahi breathes a silent sigh of relief. "But weren't you saying girls can sense lack of self-confidence? Have I rubbed off on you that badly?"

Nishinoya draws his shoulders to his ears, balling his fists. "I'm confident!" he claims. "She might say yes! But... she might also say no."

Asahi pauses. It's somewhat conflicting to admit, but it stings to see his close friend so down about his prospects. "Nishinoya," he says, turning to face the second year, who blinks up at him with surprise. He feels the rumble of his own voice in his throat, he knows his tongue is moving to form words, but his own heartbeat consumes his hearing. Even so, even without fully knowing what kind of optimism his brain has put forward, his words kindle the blaze behind brown eyes, and Nishinoya's smile widens in tandem. He gives Asahi a nod, and the elder's chest tightens. It takes him a moment to follow behind where Nishinoya's steps have picked back up, his enthusiasm returned to propel him back to the gym. He's disgusted with himself. How can he be such a coward? Right in the face of the one he likes, the one he wants to be with, he said words that Nishinoya took to heart and wrought encouragement from. But did Asahi really mean them? In his heart of hearts, does he feel the truth of those words? Can he really live with it if he never speaks his crush out loud, if he never acts on the impulses buried beneath the shame and embarrassment, if Nishinoya shows up to the banquet with another girl?

He watches Nishinoya toe off his indoor shoes and exchange them for his gym sneakers, he does the same. Ennoshita, the one who's swing had nailed Asahi in the face, jogs over to apologize profusely and ask if he's okay. Asahi waves him off gratefully, following narrow shoulders and spiked charcoal hair back onto the court.

He decides something in that moment. Thinking of that smile, the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, Asahi decides that no matter what, Nishinoya's happiness is his happiness. He can keep it to himself this way; his crush doesn't have to be known to be felt. If he can make himself work for Nishinoya's happiness, if he can see Nishinoya smiling and hear his laughter, then that will be enough to sustain him. Anything more is too selfish. How can he want to claim the Guardian Diety for himself? He'll ignore the lance of pain when he overhears Nishinoya asking Shimizu to the banquet. He'll ignore the pangs of relief when she tells him no. He'll smile and nod and give encouragement when he hears of Nishinoya's plan to ask Sasaki Chizuru of the girl's volleyball team instead.

He'll ignore the awful pit in his stomach when he learns that Sasaki agrees to go.

He'll ignore the terrible feeling that burns inside him when he sees the pair enter the gym, arm in arm, the night of the banquet.

Nishinoya is smiling. He's happy. That's all. That's enough.

Asahi sits outside in the cold, early spring night. With the raffles and speeches and events over, he's managed to escape for now. He figures it's only a matter of time before someone finds him gone and comes searching. He hasn't even hidden himself, awaiting the inevitable. But he can't sit at the boys' volleyball table by himself anymore, he can't handle the cheap conversation handed to him by neighborhood folks who've come to donate and celebrate, he can't swallow the platitudes from people he doesn't know who shower him with compliments about games he wishes he'd done better in. He'd rather be shivering in his thin linen shirt, watching as his breath becomes clouds of vapor with each long sigh.

He'd promised himself it would be enough. He'd promised himself that if Nishinoya was smiling, he would smile too. That's why he has to be alone right now. He can't let Nishinoya see how shameful his face is. He doesn't want the concerned questions. He doesn't deserve them. He wouldn't know how to answer them anyway. So he wraps his arms tighter around himself and sucks in icy air between his teeth. The door bursts open, surprising him, and out tumble Yamaguchi and Yacchan. A smiling Yamaguchi leads the way for the profusely-blushing blond girl. The pair hold hands, their shy fingers laced together, as they tiptoe right past Asahi, thinking themselves unseen. They vanish into the dark school, cloaked by night to fulfill the innocent thrill held in their glassy eyes. Asahi watches after them until the door opens loudly again a while later, giving him another surprise.

"Damn, it's cold out here. Oh, Asahi-san!"

He's noticed this time. His refuge is over.

"Tanaka," he says back.

"You see Yamaguchi come out this way?"

"I might've," Asahi says, trying to sound like he can't remember as he recalls how the first years were looking at each other. He thinks it best to let the pair slip away with each other; they might not get the chance to chase their teenage feelings again, and Asahi would hate for his word to be the one to get them caught up in any kind of teasing. It doesn't matter much, as Tanaka seems unfazed by his vagueness.

"That punk has a date! He asked Yachi and she said yes. I can't believe it, the stallion." He shields his eyes as if he were under the light of the beaming sun instead of the sliver of a distant moon to look out into the darkness. "Tsukishima doesn't seem too happy, though. But when does he ever."

Asahi tries to laugh with him, staring down at where his fingers tangle together on the railing he's leaning on.

"You'll catch a cold if you stay out here," Tanaka says, his tone more subtle as he puts one hand on Asahi's shoulder. He tugs gently. "C'mon. Let's go back inside."

"Thanks, Tanaka, but I think I need a little longer." He tugs at his tie, pushes his sleeves further up his forearms despite the cold. Tanaka gives his shoulder a squeeze before letting go.

"Alright, take your time." He doesn't turn back to the door right away, crossing his arms and shifting from foot to foot against a frigid wind that blows by instead. "Man, the night is starting to turn. First Tsukishima, then Noya-san, now you--"

"Wait, Nishinoya? What happened to Nishinoya?" A bizarre desperation makes his stomach sore like an old bruise. He even straightens up when he asks. Tanaka blinks a few times before answering.

"He, uh--turns out his date had her eyes on someone else. She dropped Noya-san like old news and is hanging around some guy on the soccer team. Poor girl can't get a word in between all his friends though--Asahi-san? Where are you going?"

"Sorry, I've gotta go," Asahi barely has time to say before he's pushing his way back into the party. The air is dense, sweaty, thicker than the brisk climate outside. It's as if the night sky has made its way inside to smother everyone under a fog. Asahi claws his way through the heavy atmosphere to a little pocket where he sees Daichi, Suga, and Michimiya laughing together.

"Asahi, your face is all red! Are you okay?" Suga asks as soon as he spots Asahi.

"I was outside, it's freezing. In any case, have you guys seen Nishinoya?"

"I did," Michimiya answers. "I think I saw him leave out the back doors. He looked kind of down."

"Thank you," Asahi puts one hand on her shoulder as he presses by her. "You look wonderful, Michimiya!" he adds, because it's true.

With his size, and with his appearance he thinks, it's easy to shoulder his way through the crowd until he reaches the back doors. On his way he picks up his jacket where earlier he'd draped it over his abandoned chair. He has to duck through decorative ribbons to get through the back door, and he blinks against the harsh white wash of light coming down from the buzzing fixture above. It takes a moment to find him, but soon Asahi sees a small shadow leaning against the brick wall. It doesn't move as he approaches.

"Nishinoya?" Asahi carefully steps closer. The younger's head is down, his face hidden under shadows cast by the hair he has styled brushed away from his forehead instead of up in the usual way. He leans with his back pressed to the bricks and his legs extended out in front of him. The black color and the higher waist of his pants gives the illusion of height, added to by the white, open-collared shirt tucked in and the black Karasuno team jacket on top. He looks up when he hears Asahi call his name. The moment their eyes meet, Asahi feels a pull in his chest.

_Why is he so handsome when he looks sad?_

"I heard you were out here by yourself," he says quietly. Nishinoya drops his head again. "Are you cold?"

The second year doesn't answer. Asahi stands next to him and presses his back against the bricks. The cold seeps into his flesh, but he stands patiently, waiting to accept any words Nishinoya will say.

"You don't have to stay," he mumbles quietly after a while. Asahi smiles up at the stars.

"That's alright, I want to."

"You'll catch a cold, you know," Nishinoya says, defensiveness creeping into his voice. "I know you've been outside practically all night."

"Don't worry about me, I'm tougher than you give me credit for," Asahi returns gently, not intimidated in the least by the underclassman's attempt to shoo him. He drapes his jacket over slim shoulders, and to his surprise, Nishinoya clutches it closed around him, shivering hard.

"Not worrying about you is impossible sometimes," Nishinoya bites back under his breath. He nuzzles into the lapels on the jacket, holding them close under his nose and shutting his eyes. "I got jilted by my date, that's why I'm out here. Why are you here?"

Asahi gasps. "She left you?"

"Yeah, turns out she was using me to make some guy on the soccer team jealous or something." Nishinoya scuffs his heel into the cement in frustration. "So? What's got you wearing that long face?"

"Oh..." Asahi pauses. In his haste, he had forgotten that he'd left the party inside for a reason. His expression is still betraying his true feelings, the ones he'd sworn to contain for the sake of his closest friend. Instead of answering, he flips a question to Nishinoya; "Jealousy is such an ugly thing, isn't it?"

"I'll say," the younger agrees readily. "Why would she say yes if she didn't want to come with me in the first place?"

"Sometimes it makes us want attention from someone we love so badly we'd step on others to get it. Sometimes it turns us into cowards that can't say or do what we mean even if it hurts."

"Huh?"

"Nishinoya," Asahi steps away from the wall to stand in front of him. Brown eyes are wide and shocked with confusion, his brow drawn tight and his mouth open with a question that won't come. Asahi can't tell if it's the cold or the adrenaline that's making his lungs burn, but he can't shy away anymore from what he's about to do. He takes a deep breath to center himself. He has to close his eyes to get the words to work. "I couldn't tell you this before, but... I wanted to come here... with... you."

Silence lingers. Dread soaks through Asahi and he's afraid to open his eyes. He's afraid of what he'll see on Nishinoya's face if he does. His cobbled courage starts to crumble and he begins to shrink into himself, cursing the light for being so bright. He wishes he could hide, he wishes he couldn't feel the intensity of Nishinoya's stare on his red face. He's sure his nervous sweat must be steaming off him. He hears the scrape of heeled shoes on cement, positive that Nishinoya is going to leave him there under the fluorescent lights, his words hanging heavy for him to grab up and tuck away somewhere where they'll both pretend they were never spoken. But the sound stops, and Asahi dares to open his eyes halfway. He opens them wide when he sees that Nishinoya is standing straighter, his back off the wall. His expression is alert, surprised, perhaps even dazed. His nose is pinched pink with cold and so are his cheeks and the tips of his ears. But then, he smiles his familiar smile, and Asahi's hope deflates.

"Then why didn't you just say so?" jabs the libero disguised as a gentleman. And Asahi is tempted to give in, to crumple with laughter and take it as a friendly thing, to let the anxiety wash away and hide the way his hands are shaking. But he bites his cheek.

"No, that's--I didn't mean... as friends..."

Nishinoya stops laughing, tilting his head to one side. "How did you mean it?"

The image of Yamaguchi and Yacchan comes back into his mind, the look they had in their eyes for each other; the nervous prospect of something more, the courage to leap into their feelings and capture the moment before them. Asahi swallows hard.

"I like you, Nishinoya. I mean, I really like you. As more than just best friends. I wanted to come here with you, and hold your hand and laugh and dance, and after we could get noodles together and you could sleep over at my place and we..." He's rambling. The nerves have taken over and his mouth won't stop moving. He rolls his lips, clenching his fists. "I wanted to come here with you on a date."

"A date..." Nishinoya repeats. His wide eyes drop, like he's searching for something, then rise back to Asahi's face. "As...?"

"As...your b-boyfriend."

The second year pauses, the jacket over his shoulders slipping. He's not holding on to it as tightly, as if he's forgotten it's there in his shock. Asahi tries not to squirm as Nishinoya stays quiet, thinking, letting out a little hum as he reaches an unshared conclusion. Clutching for something to take his attention and keep him from simply combusting, Asahi finds relief when he notices that the disappointment is gone from Nishinoya's expression. He's not thinking about being left by Chizuru for another guy, or Shimizu's rejection. The corners of his lips have lost the little pinch, and his brow is much more relaxed. Though all this is in exchange for a thoughtful frown and raised eyebrows at Asahi's clumsy confession. The elder lets out a breath.

"Say something already," he laughs nervously, leaning down to grab Nishinoya by the shoulders. "I want to eat noodles before we freeze out here!"

Nishinoya looks at him and laughs. It's a different laugh this time, one that Asahi has never heard from him before. It's almost a giggle. His heart skips when Nishinoya takes a step from the wall and looks up into his eyes.

_He's so pretty when he's happy too..._

"You're right, screw this lame party. Let's go get some noodles."

Pure euphoria burns through Asahi's whole body, thawing him right down to his fingertips. His vision goes spotty with glee. "Nishinoya?"

"Hm?"

Asahi takes his ice-cold cheeks in each palm, cupping his face carefully to raise his lips. Asahi shuts his eyes, bending a little to close the distance between them, pressing his lips gently against the other's. Nishinoya makes a little sound of surprise, but relaxes into the kiss, pressing his lips gently back. Asahi can't hold himself against the urge to slide one hand to hold the back of Nishinoya's head in his palm, squeezing his eyes tight as passion threatens to overwhelm him. Nishinoya hums against his mouth, little fingers reaching from inside the jacket draped over him to wrap gently around Asahi's wrist.

 _I did it_ , he thinks as he pulls away from the kiss to lean his forehead against the other's. _He's mine. I'm his. I did it._

He could die from happiness.

"Asahi-san?" comes the quiet question after a long stretch. "The place near Sakanoshita will close soon."

Asahi chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead before standing at full height again. He can't keep from smiling. "I know. Let's go."

The pair make their way through the party, dropping quick goodbyes where they're needed, and head into the night again, side by side under the distant stars. Nishinoya pulls the jacket close around him.

"You put this on me, you're not getting it back," he says, claiming the black garment. Asahi laughs.

"That's fine."

"By the way Asahi-san."

"Hm?"

"You're a bad kisser. Your lips were all stiff."

Asahi blanches, stuttering to recover from the bad blow to his self-esteem. "I-it's cold out!"

Nishinoya laughs, a sound that bounces off the buildings fringing the otherwise quiet street. Asahi relaxes, laughing too.

"It's okay," he says. He feels warmth in his face. "We'll have plenty of time to practice together."

"Good," Nishinoya says. Asahi jolts; it's not easy to catch the Guardian Diety off-guard, is it? "We can do that tonight, then."

"Tonight?" Asahi says, caught off-guard himself.

"You said I'm sleeping over, didn't you? You need lots of practice."

Asahi smiles, moving closer to the smaller boy to put his arm around lithe shoulders. He leans down a little to say, "Do I need lots of practice or do you just want to kiss me a lot?"

Nishinoya doesn't hesitate. "Both." He looks up at Asahi with his beautiful, clever, determined smile, and Asahi smiles back, giving him another quick kiss filled with pure joy. "That was better."

**Author's Note:**

> How did I do? I hope you'll leave a kudo if you liked it, and don't be afraid to comment your favorite part! I also take requests. If you want to see me write something else, leave me a comment with your idea down below--I'd love to hear it! Feel free to subscribe to my page if you'd like to read more of my writing. You can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ShiroiNoKiba). Thank you for reading!
> 
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